Hepatica
by Exhile87
Summary: P3. Five glimpses into the life of Mitsuru Kirijo- my pride, my joy, my daughter. ::SPOILERS::


**A/N: This was originally planned to be the fourth chapter of my other fic, _Angels In The Room_, but I decided it was too long to be considered a short story. Most of you would probably be familiar with the title, _Hepatica_, from the Xenosaga Episode III soundtrack. I felt the track was quite suitable with the nature of the story.**

**I had been planning to write a fic in Takeharu Kirijo's point of view for a long time now. Mitsuru is my second favourite character (after smexy Akihiko) and I wanted to show a deeper insight into her life and what made her the person she was in the game.**

**There is absolutely no Aki/Mitsu goodness at all in this story, not even a hint, so apologies to the fans of this pairing! **

**Beware of uber spoilers. As usual I've proof-read this but do let me know if you find any mistakes. Also, I hope I used the _-sama_ suffix correctly... **

* * *

_i._

The first time I noticed _it _was a day after I cremated my dear wife, Neya. I had just returned home from work. Mitsuru—six at that time—ran over to me and gave me a hug. We entered the living room, where the maid was just starting the fire at the fireplace. As soon as the wood pellets burned brightly, Mitsuru froze, took a good look at the flickering flames and spontaneously burst into tears.

Her behaviour brought Sakaya, the maid and her nanny, over at once, concerned and alarmed. I found myself mystified. What was wrong? Had something happened while I was away? Did she hurt herself somehow?

"What's wrong, Mitsuru?" I asked, kneeling down by the sobbing child. "Why are you crying?"

"Don't go, Daddy! Please don't go!" she pleaded in a heart-breaking manner. I grew more puzzled. "I just got home," I said gently. "Where did you think I was going?" Still weeping quietly, she pointed at the fireplace, wiping away the tears from her reddening eyes with a tiny hand. I was still confused. Turning to Sakaya, I asked, "Did anything happen to her today?"

"No, Kirijo-sama." Sakaya shook her head, and then bit her lip. "But she _was _upset this afternoon when I took her to the dining room for lunch. She refused to eat it but wanted to have it up in her bedroom instead." Sakaya paused thoughtfully, her eyes jumping from Mitsuru to the crackling fireplace. She placed a hand on her wrinkled forehead and turned back to me. "Kirijo-sama, I think that she might be afraid of the fireplace, for some reason. She was crying and pointing at the one in the dining room as well," she said worriedly.

Mitsuru—afraid of fireplaces? I found that hard to believe, but all the same, I nodded slowly as I stood. Mitsuru clung tightly to my left leg, burying her face into the soft material of my pants. She was rather quiet now.

"Mitsuru," I called kindly. She raised her amber eyes to me. "Are you afraid of that?" I pointed at the seemingly offending fireplace, to which she immediately nodded. I couldn't understand it. Why would she be terrified of such a thing all of a sudden? I verbalized my thoughts, "Why are you afraid?"

"… Because it might take you away," came her whisper after a moment. "The way it took Mummy away."

And then it all dawned on me. It wasn't the fireplace she was afraid of—it was the _fire._ Yesterday, she had been watching silently as Neya's casket was slowly pushed into the burning furnace; hot, stinging flames licking the shiny, wooden surface. On the way back home and when I had tucked her into bed, she was very quiet. I had just assumed she was tired, but wasn't it possible that her six-year-old mind subconsciously related fire to the loss of her mother after being at the crematorium?

"Sakaya, was the fire in the dining room lit this afternoon?" I just had to make sure.

"Yes. Suzu-chan started it just before lunch. It was a rather cold day."

"I see… Carry on with the dinner preparations. I will tend to Mitsuru myself," I said. Sakaya nodded and left us with a respectful bow. I turned back to my daughter, who was still clinging to me. When I placed a hand on her small head, she looked at me, eyes anxious. I reached down for her fingers and tugged her closer to the fireplace. She was unsure and clearly very uneasy, but followed me anyway, and for that, I was pleased.

"See, Mitsuru?" I bent down and laid a palm on the glass door just by the burning wood. Her eyes visibly widened. "The fire doesn't hurt me. You don't have to be afraid of it… It won't take me away."

"… But what about Mummy?"

"Mummy was…" I found myself lost for words. _Dead. Not alive. Gone. Out of our reach._ "… Mummy was… special." It was far from appropriate but I could think of nothing else. I continued on to change the subject, "Fires are useful to us, Mitsuru, as long as you don't touch them. They help us cook, and they keep us warm. You don't want to be cold all day, do you?"

She studied me with her expressive eyes and slowly shook her head. "No…" she mumbled. I drew her in for another hug—this time tighter and longer. "I'm not going anywhere," I murmured into her ear. "I'll always be here, Mitsuru, with you. I promise."

I felt her nodding. I got up and ruffled her crimson hair, giving her a small smile. "Shall we go to the dining room and wait for dinner?" I suggested. She nodded again and we walked over to the door leading into the other room, but just as I turned the gold-painted handle, she asked in a quiet voice, "Is that why we put Mummy into the fire? So she can always be warm?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. I thought she wouldn't be thinking about_ her_ after what I had said, but who was I kidding? She was still a child, and she had just lost her mother. It had only been a day, but to me, it had felt like a whole decade had passed. A decade that had chilled me to my very bones; a cold that no fire could ever warm.

"… Yes." The word left my lips before I even realised it. "Yes, that's right."

o-o-o-o-o

_ii._

The crash of glass was as loud as a sonic boom, but even as the shards rained on me, the only thing on my mind was Mitsuru. I had to reach her before _they_ did. My surroundings were covered in an eerie green and all around me, I hardly made out the dull surfaces of the upright coffins. A moment ago there had been chaos—panicked screams, more glass shattering, fiery flames—but now, everything was quiet. The fire that was burning most of the room was stagnant; bright orange and yellow replaced by emerald, suffocating heat replaced with cold. Only the chilling sound of something, or _things,_ slithering about reached my ears.

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain from the embedded glass in my hands and the numbness from the large gash along my leg. My vision was poor. I could barely see in the dim room. One of my eyes hurt. I touched it and felt thick, sticky liquid instead. Was it blood?

_Mitsuru._ My throbbing head came alive almost at once. I stumbled towards the room next to the observation centre, dizzy and light-headed, trying my best to keep a look out for any splotches of black matter. I kicked the steel door open and tumbled in. "Mitsuru! Where are you?" I called out in fear, seeing only darkness. This was all my fault. The research had shown that it was too soon—there was almost no chance of her being able to call out this so-called 'Persona' now. After just three weeks, how could I have decided she was ready? And now, the two Shadows from the lab—

"Daddy?" Her voice pierced through my thoughts. Never had I been so relieved to hear it. It came from one of the corners of the room, anxious and terrified. "Daddy, what's going on?"

"Mitsuru, come to the door! We have to—" I didn't even have the chance to complete my sentence. Claws descended upon my back and I was pulled out from the room by something I couldn't see, landing painfully on more shards. Gasping for breath, I squinted my good eye, making out a large blob with grotesque arms and inhuman masked faces. It was approaching me.

"Daddy!" I heard Mitsuru scream, more horrified than ever. I caught sight of the other moving Shadow—there, just by the control panels. My eyes darted to the double doors directly opposite the testing room Mitsuru was in. There was a clear way out.

"Daddy!" Her second cry brought my attention back to the Shadow slithering nearer to me. I could see her behind it, standing by the testing room door, eyes filled with tears and body trembling terribly.

"Mitsuru, get to the doors! Run!" I found myself yelling with all my might. The last word escaped my lips just as the Shadow lunged forward towards me. I raised my arms instinctively, bracing myself for the—

"_Daddy!_"

—ice cold claws that sank into the tendons of my arm—

"_Run,_ Mitsuru!"

—and dug deep—

"_NO!"_

—and then, a bright, white flash. I stumbled back a little from the impact of the attack, but when I opened the eyes I didn't know I had squeezed shut, there was no Shadow before me. No bobbing white faces, no twisted, gnarly hands…

… only a white apparition floating above a shaking Mitsuru. An unseen face hidden behind an armour-like mask. Two hands clutching two swords, glinting with a green hue. An almost _regal_ female warrior. My eyes widened. It was a… It was _Mitsuru's—_

…_Persona._

A piercing shriek cut through the air. The second Shadow rushed towards me in fury, and this time, I witnessed it all. The pair of swords swung down immediately, effectively slicing through most of the Shadow. It burst into tiny flakes that seemed to evaporate extraordinarily fast, disappearing right before my eyes.

I found myself gasping, breathing chokingly, staring in awe at the hovering phantom that had just saved my life. Then suddenly, it vanished into thin air. I heard footsteps, and then Mitsuru was beside me.

"Daddy! Daddy, are you alright?" She flung her arms around me. Despite the blinding pain, I slowly sat up to hug her back, pressing her wet face into my chest.

"I'm okay," I managed to wheeze. As I held her crying form, I never wanted to let her go. I had been so adamant on pushing everything to their limits tonight, and because of that, I had almost lost my daughter—lost my _life._

_Never again…_

"I… I finally found her, Daddy…" Mitsuru whispered. I knew who—_what—_she was talking about. "That's what you wanted, right? All this time?"

_Yes,_ I wanted to answer, but I only hugged her tighter and said nothing.

… She was ten when she first summoned her Persona. Looking back now, she had even managed to do it without an Evoker. I knew the events of that night would always be at the back of her mind, and no matter how much she tried to hide it, I also knew the incident had further fuelled her fear of something else—something I thought she had gotten over by now…

In the end, though, when I thought about it, who could blame a child, who had lived through a burning hell, for fearing fire?

o-o-o-o-o

_iii._

As Mitsuru ventured into her teenage years, she bloomed into an attractive young lady that was almost the spitting image of Neya, save for her red locks. She was fourteen and a half when she brought home her first two friends from middle school. It was one of the rare days I worked at home, in my study on the second floor. As I headed down to the garden to stretch my legs, I saw two boys sitting in the living room, helping themselves to some biscuits. One of them was dark-haired, the other almost bleach-white. They froze at once when they saw me.

I was just about to demand for their identities when Mitsuru appeared and hastily introduced them as Shinjiro Aragaki and Akihiko Sanada—dark-haired and light-haired, respectively—two of her classmates from school. They were just over to complete a group project. I had no idea then that they would develop the 'potential' and be the second and third members of SEES. Strange what fate could throw at you…

The years flew by faster than I had imagined, and the older Mitsuru grew, the more independent she became. Perhaps it had something to do with the absence of a mother-figure in her life (Sakaya left to return to her village in Mitsuru's eleventh year). Nevertheless, I was extremely proud of what my daughter had become and what she had accomplished. She was always top of her class. She wanted to lead and wanted to participate in the most challenging of activities. She had become quite popular among the other students. She was a brilliant fencer. She was a sensible and cool-headed person who looked at any problem from all the different, possible angles before coming up with a logical solution. She made wonderful progress with the training of her Persona, whom she had named Penthesilea.

Most importantly, she was wise in making decisions. She never leapt straight to conclusions, but instead considered the consequences carefully; filtered out the pros and cons.

Yes, Mitsuru was indeed growing, no doubt about that, but with growth came changes as well. I couldn't even remember when 'father' replaced 'daddy' in her vocabulary. I couldn't remember the last time we actually sat down to have a meal together. As the years passed, I turned more and more to my work while she, in turn, spent more time in school, organizing events and hanging out with Aragaki and Sanada, who had become two of her closest schoolmates. We slowly drifted apart, as many parents and children do, so much so that I had to think carefully about what to say during our rare conversations, as opposed to speaking my mind in her younger days.

With the Kirijo Corporation expanding as well, work took up most of my time. I began to use gifts to replace conversations with Mitsuru. I gave her a plasma TV for her room on her fifteenth birthday; an authentic European rapier for her sixteenth; an antique tea-set for her seventeenth. Strange gifts for a teenage girl, but I knew she treasured them.

As she matured mentally, however, I made sure I took the time to set her down and tell her about our family—how we broke away from the Nanjo Group, my own father's errors in the past, what we thought began the Dark Hour, and most importantly, her responsibilities in the future. "Do not think that you are to be blamed for your grandfather's mistakes," I had said to her. "You are fighting Shadows because you have the ability to do so, and with that power, we must ensure that the generations in the years to come will not suffer for something that was brought about by a madman. 'Two in harmony surpasses one in perfection'—that has been our family's guiding principle for decades. Learn to share your burden with others, learn to _trust _in others. This is one fight you cannot fight alone, Mitsuru. You will need as much help as you can get, and I am very pleased to see you working well with Sanada and Aragaki."

She always listened to my advice silently, her face understanding and respectful. She never questioned what I told her. At first, I thought she took into heart everything I said, but I soon found out that her wilful nature brought along a frustrating companion—stubbornness. She began to erect invisible walls around her, as if they were some sort of defence mechanism against other people. I learnt from Sanada that she was starting to be socially awkward, reserved.

I had no idea she was beginning to feel stifled from the rather controlled life she had. As my only daughter, I had high expectations for her, and I wanted her to always give a good impression as a Kirijo, especially at the formal dinners and parties our company usually organized. She had always looked so contented, so happy. The next thing that happened took me completely by surprise. I really had not been expecting it at all.

The day Mitsuru turned eighteen, she bought a motorcycle.

o-o-o-o-o

_iv._

"Takeba is alright now, I presume?" I asked, lighting up my cigar. Standing by the shelf, looking through the books, was Mitsuru. True, I had been fairly surprised at her sudden appearance at Yakushima, but now, I was relieved and pleased at the chance for a conversation with her. There was something we needed to talk about…

"Yes, she's in the guest room now. I had Yamagishi accompany her," she answered, and then bluntly said, "Is there something you wanted to speak to me about?"

Her straightforwardness did not surprise me—I was used to it. Puffing away, I got up from my desk and moved over to the window to look at the night-time sea. A cloud of smoke rose into the air.

"You are eighteen now, almost an adult. I… have been getting a few propositions from the leaders of some of the other Groups that our Kirijo Corporation deals with frequently," I said.

"… Propositions?" She sounded puzzled. I decided to spell it out for her, "Marriage proposals. Their sons seek your hand in marriage."

Mitsuru did not respond to my words. I knew she was very taken back—I could almost sense her shock. I myself was stunned when the proposals came pouring in. The first thing that had crossed my mind was, _Has it been that long already? _I had always thought of Mitsuru as a young, adolescent girl. Now she was almost a woman.

After a brief pause, I heard her approach me hesitantly. "Father… I'm not…" she mumbled, unsure. "I don't think I'm…"

"There is no need to worry, Mitsuru. I rejected all of them—politely, of course." Her sigh of relief was soft, but I heard it anyway. I turned to her, and for the millionth time, was struck by how alike she was to Neya. Her usually serious face was now passive and troubled, but deep in her amber eyes laid the compassion and determination that were her mother's.

"There is something I should tell you… something about your mother and me," I said. Her eyebrows rose delicately. "… Your mother and I… our marriage was arranged solely for strategic reasons. Her father's company was in disorder after his death, and they pressured her to marry into the Kirijo family to effectively merge the two companies and guarantee financial support."

Mitsuru's eyes widened even more at my revelation. She reached out to push a red lock away from her vision and crossed her arms. "I… I had no idea…" she said softly. "I was young but… I remember… Mother and you always seemed so loving to each other. Was that all just an act you two put on in front of me?"

Her words were sharp, but her tone was not. I shook my head. "No. Both of us had no say whatsoever in our engagement and marriage, but looking back after some years, we were actually one of the few fortunate ones." I turned back to the window, taking another long drag from the cigar. I did not want her to see the melancholy on my face.

"… What do you mean?"

"Your mother was very special to me…" I murmured. "We barely knew each other even after we wedded, but I grew to love her, just as she did me. We cared for each other greatly, the same way any other married couple would. The only difference was that our journey began much later than anyone else's. In the end, however, it didn't matter, because our destinations were the same anyway."

She said nothing. I took another puff and slowly faced her, watching as she looked at me with a sort of pained expression, and suddenly, she is six again—crying about the fire in the living room, tugging at my pants, wanting her mother back.

"You are a very independent person, Mitsuru, and I am proud of that. I understand what an arranged marriage would mean to you, and I know nothing is worse than being shackled to a loveless relationship just for the sake of someone or something else," I told her. She nodded understandingly. "However," I continued in a firmer voice. "You are a Kirijo. There are times when you must still make decisions regardless of your emotions, though I pray that you will never have to do so." _Ever._

"… Yes, Father," she answered quietly.

o-o-o-o-o

_v._

It had all happened so quickly. Two loud _bangs_, and my world was close to the end. There was something hard behind my head and my fingers were wet. Was I on the ground? I was… bleeding?

The only thing I saw through my cloudy vision was the bright, greenish-yellow moon in the dead sky. I heard someone calling me… I heard that _bastard_ screaming something out… more gunshots… something breaking…

I wanted to lie down and go to sleep. People always said that your whole life flashed before your eyes just as your soul crosses over to death. I saw nothing but two faces—my precious Neya, smiling faintly as she watered the bonsai she so loved, and the other, my pride and joy, the only other person I had left, my daughter.

"Father…" She was beside me. She seemed so real; it wasn't a figment of my imagination. I could feel her hands on my head, cradling me gently. I wanted to laugh bitterly. No pain from the gunshot, but this, I felt. How strange…

"Father, no… please, don't… I…" Her eyes were filled with tears and she was crying quietly. I couldn't remember the last time I saw her cry. Was it that night—when Penthesilea first appeared?

"I'm sorry, Mitsuru…" I whispered, closing my eyes. As clichéd as it might seem, this was not how I thought it was going to end. I could still hear her anguished sobs and the image of her weeping burnt right through my mind. Her fingers were cold… so soft and cold…

_I promised, but..._


End file.
